


Brothers

by Titti



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-03
Updated: 2006-02-03
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their mother's death, Don tries to understand Charlie's reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers

Months of writing and erasing, of chalk powder and white stains, months of hiding in the garage didn't end when their mother died. No, Charlie stayed there for the wake, and the funeral, while Don and his father arranged for everything. Charlie made a brief appearance at church, sitting at the back so he wouldn't have to deal with anyone, but Don saw him sneak in like a burglar in the night.

His father said that he should understand, and Don did understand. Charlie was a spoiled genius, who cared for no one but himself. He used his intelligence to cover his selfishness. Oh yes, Don understood all too well, and he was sick and tired of it.

He walked into the garage, watching as Charlie was still at work on his unsolvable problem. "You must be proud of yourself."

Charlie froze, then turned to face his brother. "Don, please, I need to finish this, I can't lose my concentration now."

"Of course not, you couldn't let little things like our mother's death interfere with your precious numbers. You couldn't remember that dad and I were still here, because you were in here, discovering some crappy mathematical thing that is never going to help anyone."

Don crossed the room, and picked up the eraser. Without care for his brother, he began to clean the blackboards with wide, angry stroke that deleted every trace of the numbers and equations. "See, this means nothing."

"Oh God." Charlie gasped before grabbing his brother's arm. "God, stop... you can't do this. I need this...Don...please..."

"No, you don't," Don answered angrily. He threw the eraser against a blackboard before turning. He framed his brother's face, staring at him. "You're only using this to hide...to hide and to avoid us. Fine, you're mad at me for some reason, and I can deal with this, but you shouldn't do this to dad, and you certainly shouldn't have done it to mom. She loved you, more than she loved me or dad, and you repaid her with..." He swung his arm around. "With this nonsense."

Don shook his head, and sighed. "Why am I bothering? You're too selfish to care." He grabbed a piece of chalk and pushed it into Charlie's hand. "Here, waste another month or two of your life."

Charlie stood there, watching Don's back, trembling inside. Months and months of work destroyed by Don's ignorance. Couldn’t he see how important his work was? Couldn't he understand how much he needed this? Before he could think, he threw the chalk toward Don, missing by a mile, and hitting the wall instead. "You have no idea. The fact that you can't comprehend what's here does not make it nonsense."

Don turned around, his eyes narrowed, with angry lines around them. He approached Charlie again, standing only inches away. He took all his effort not to punch his brother. "I can't comprehend? What's to 'comprehend'? You decided that you'd miss on mom's last months of life so you could work on numbers. You haven't spoken to me in weeks, weeks, Charlie. You continued to work on them while we buried her - we, as in dad and I. I think I comprehend quite well."

"You don't understand," Charlie answered stubbornly.

"Then, tell me. Make me understand what's so important about this. Make me understand why I shouldn't hate you for doing this to mom, to me...please..." The anger withered away, and it was replaced by anguish and need and love, and so many contrasting feelings. His fingers intertwined with Charlie's messy hair, and he rested his forehead against Charlie's. "Please, Charlie, help me make sense of this."

Charlie's hands rested on Don's hips. "I didn't need the solution, Don, but I needed this, I needed to think about something that would keep me occupied. I'm not like you; I'm not strong enough. I couldn't...couldn't watch her die. This...this helped...I didn't mean to leave you alone...I'm sorry, Don... so sorry."

Months of anger disappeared as Don watched the tears pool in his brother's eyes. He wrapped his arm around Charlie. They moved closer without any words, their bodies touching.

Charlie rested his cheek against Don's. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered, his lips brushing against Don's ear.

"I'm sorry, too, Charlie." Don held as close as he dared, his hand still cupping the back of his brother's head. "I love you, Charlie, but I wish you'd talk to me. I could have helped you. You could have helped me."

"Could I have? You're the strong one, the one who can face the world, the one who can lead his own FBI team. What am I?"

Don cracked a smiled. "You're the genius. You're the baby brother who everyone loves." He drew back, and stared at Charlie. "You are the brother that I love, even when he's acting like a total jackass."

"You're a jackass, too," Charlie said with a small smile that turned into a frown as he looked at Don. "Do you really think that I hurt mom?"

Don shook his head. "No, I'm sure she understood. She knows...knew you better than anyone."

"Partially." Charlie slid his hands over Don's arms. "You won't leave me, too, will you?"

Don smiled, and shook his head. "No, I might want to smack you hard, but I won't leave you."

Charlie nodded. "Good." Then, he brushed his lips against Don's. It was supposed to be a gentle kiss, but it changed soon, it became charged with want, and hurt, and need for reassurance. Their tongues danced around each other, playful and familiar. Their hands moved comfortably over each other's body as their lips moved across each other. "Are you staying here tonight?" Charlie asked, his mouth still searching for Don's.

"If you promise to come to bed...It's been lonely without you," Don confessed.

Charlie pulled away. "Let's go, then."

Don put a hand over Charlie's shoulder. They walked together toward the house. Two brothers, two lovers: the world might not understand, but together they were much stronger than they were alone.


End file.
